The Becoming of a King
by BloodDarkerThanCrimson
Summary: When Percy follows the mysterious voice in a forest that he didn't where where it sprouted from, he's gotten to another world with some stupid prophecy and someone whom he should protect, along with this Emrys.
1. Chapter 1: Prognostication

**Hey, dear readers! Merlin's my first fantasy fandom being a television series, excluding Sherlock. It's this little project I've been working on. Sorry if the characters are a little OOC. As you see, I'm obsessed with the PJO fandom—I've got crossovers with Merlin, Harry Potter, Ranger's Apprentice with Percy Jackson. And since there's not a story I've like in this crossover, I've decided to make one. Purely beneficial for me, and for you. ^_^ Percy's timeline is set after the Giant War, and with Merlin's… well, you'll find out soon enough. And, here we go!**

**UPDATED: Quote and some mistakes here and there. Nothing drastically important.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Percy Jackson.**

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"The ultimate function of prophecy is not to tell the future, but to make it. Your successful past will block your visions of the future."  
Joel Barker

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**Chapter 1: Prognostication**

At least he had his memories this time.

Percy didn't know where he was—maybe this was something the gods (he can hear the name _Hera_ there) planned. He was sick of this, this being abducted.

Technically, not abducted. Because it was his choice to follow the voice willingly, right?

_Emrys needs you._

That creepy disembodied voice he'd been hearing inside his head was the stupid reason he was stuck in this whatever world he is. It neither sounded male nor female—only something about the voice made it… _powerful _and_ ethereal._

Maybe he's going crazy, having hallucinations and voices inside his head.

_Arthur needs you._

He had followed the voice because he was bored right out of his mind. Things around him were quiet and untroubled. After all, what could a demigod do with the things around him normal? Not that he was asking for a war, of course. He just got out of one alive, thank you very much.

Then there's also a tugging sensation that also made him moving forward and onwards, almost like… some sort of calling, aside from the voice. Inside his head.

Yep, he's definitely going crazy.

_Albion needs you._

It had led him to an entrance of a forest which had two trees, bending with each other on their tops, almost like the trees were whispering their secrets to each other. He had hesitated, then continued on, following the narrow path. The air grew heavier and crisp, and the trees thickened, but still he stubbornly followed it, growing more and more curious by the minute.

By the time he regained his wits that maybe he was heading into another world, it was too late. When he tried to turn back, he found that the path back to Manhattan vanished—leaving only one option: continue towards the winding path.

He wasn't in New York anymore, that's for sure. Hell, he didn't even know if he was still in his world. He was so caught up in his musings that he only knew that something changed when he stepped into a clearing. The moment he did, the sounds of the forest stopped.

_Son of Poseidon._

She stood in the middle of the clearing, tall and straight. She wore a cloak past her feet, flowing and billowing even if there is no wind rustling it. Maybe it was just a thing these gods or whatever she is had. A cowl hid her face in the shadows, her lips only visible, smiling gently; a hand was outstretched to him as if to welcome the demigod, or to take her hand. He knew that he wouldn't, and he was certain she knew that he wouldn't.

Her aura, thick and heavy around the figure, was stronger than any of the gods he ever meet—even one this powerful could compete with the aura of Gaea's. Hers was ancient and commanding.

_We meet at last._

The voice wasn't coming from her lips; it remained smiling throughout his observation. Percy could hear it inside his head. It filled him to the brim, made him feel whole, and made him completely overwhelmed. Her cloak shifted as he came closer warily, and he found his eyes glued to it as if something will come out from it. It cascaded down like waterfall, and he could _see _it: time and space, past and future, the rise and fall of great kings and their kingdoms, of battles and wars fought and won and lost, of magic, of cerulean blue glowing molten gold, of a great warlock, of the Once and Future King—

_Listen to me, Perseus Jackson. _It seemed like she was holding back an amused smile. _Albion needs you. Emrys and Arthur need you._

He broke out of his trance, growing irritated at the words. "Yeah, I get that. But who is this Albion, or Emrys or Arthur?"

_I have foreseen these events, and created a prophecy for them to help them fulfill their destinies. _She started to walk, side from side; more like she was gliding, as if the action will make him understand better. Of course it didn't. _Of a land united again, Albion. Of her great ruler, the Once and Future King, who will bring back magic at her land, and of the greatest warlock ruling by his side, Emrys._

The demigod's throat was dry as he spoke. "And–and what has it got to do with me? Again?"

_The battle has won, but the king has lost. _Her smile became sad, like someone who had a burden too much heavy to carry. _Time will pass, and magic will not be brought back to the land. Like your world. Arthur will be dead without you and Emrys will be alone. Forever._

"Why me?"

_I knew you had been practicing to be a greater swordmaster since Chrysaor defeated you easily during your quest. Arthur will require not only this skill, but of your legacy powers, as well as you see fit. Gain Prince Arthur's trust. Be a Knight of Camelot._

Damn. So these eternal beings were all the same: stalkers. But she's right. Ever since the quest, he had been at the camp more than usual with no more upcoming quests, finally. He had been training younger demigods, and tried and won against every one of them that everyone worshipped him.

He sighed. Running away will certainly not help matters. It will only make them worse. You cannot escape fate forever. "Where can I find him?"

_To the East, you will find the Kingdom of Camelot. Seek shelter from the Court Physician. He will certainly be able to help you and his ward. _Her tone took a darker tone. _But beware, son of Poseidon. Sorcery is banned from the Kingdom of Camelot. Even the slightest suspicion can get you executed, by the orders of the king._

Percy hesitated. "Why?"

Her gaze, although hidden, intensified at him as she faced the demigod. _King Uther's wife died because of magic. He wanted to have a son, and the sorceress Nimueh granted his wish. Shortly after childbirth, Ygraine died, for the magic of the Old Religion to make a new life, one must die, so the balance of life can be restored. And the Purge began. Since then, the king sought out to execute sorcerers in his kingdom._

The demigod winced. "Guess I don't want to be executed," he muttered.

She nodded in sympathy. _Indeed, young man. You must control yourself and your emotions, or your power will react on its own. You and Emrys share a destiny of protecting the Once and Future King. Protect him child, and do not fail._

He nodded solemnly. "Got it." As the deity turned around, Percy called out, "Wait!"

_What is it, young hero?_

"I just meant to ask, who are you?"

_My name doesn't matter._ _But if you are to ask me, I am called Fyrngidd._

As she turned away, her face caught the last rays of the sinking sun. They pierced the depths of the cowl, and Percy learned one more thing.

Her eyes were the color of the molten gold.

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**Fyrngidd means "prophecy" in Old English. Fitting, right? Tell me if you've loved this! And revieeeewww! Love them, the reviews. Who doesn't, anyway?**

**Doesn't mean if I started this that I've abandoned my other stories. Just wait, review, and I'll update them. ^_^**

_**~BloodDarkerThanCrimsonOut.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Secrets

**Hey, my dears! So, I got more of these enthusiastic reviews than I ever expected, and a lot wanted another chapter, so I'm gonna dedicate this chapter to my readers and especially these reviewers: Guest, lol (you have to watch Merlin!), Guest, Midna18, Guest, Fluty, Good, limegreenarcher, Big fan of yours, Always, WEast, Alex the Awesome, ChampionofHestia, Silver Simmons and Luckysquidmere.**

**Sorry that it took a while, 'cause I really need to update my HP fandom and my Avengers fandom crossovers. And I'm stuck on Supernatural at the moment. But this long awaited chapter is finally here for you guys!**

**Love y'all.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin and Percy Jackson. If I do, I'll probably have my own laptop, and will probably finish this fic years ago. *sighs* Oh, how I wish.**

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**Tell me what you want to hear  
****Something that will light those ears  
****Sick of all the insincere  
****So I'm gonna give all my secrets away**

**This time don't need another perfect lie  
****Don't care if critics ever jump in line  
****I'm gonna give all my secrets away  
****~Secrets, **_**OneRepublic**_

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**Chapter 2: Secrets**

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Hours later, when he was thirsty and tired and alone and hungry, he found a horse.

Or rather, the horse found _him._

He was steadily heading east, but he found no signs of any civilization. The sun was on his back now, and he thought, starvation and dehydration were stupid things to die.

So he marched on.

He winced as another twig snagged his sleeve. Percy pulled it out morosely, trying not to think about how Annabeth would probably find a way now to have their stomachs full.

Earlier, when he plucked out a greenish round fruit and bit down on it, he spat it out right away after tasting if. The fruit was the epitome of _bitterness_.

Stumbling now with exhaustion, feet throbbing, he saw the most beautiful creature ever on earth, wings or no wings.

A horse.

_I sense your consciousness, My Lord,_ the black horse said, tail swishing back and forth anxiously. _You are tired._

"I'm the son of the god of horses from another world, believe it or not," he explained for the horse's benefit, being straightforward. "And you're right, I am."

The horse's tail flicked once, then he trotted over the demigod and lowered his head. _Let me help you. I know a village not far from here._

He nearly groaned in relief. "Just don't stray too far from Camelot," he said, mounting the horse easily.

_Camelot, my Lord? _The horse shifted its hooves. _That is where I am headed. I came from there. I was trained to be a Knight's battle horse, until my rider was struck down by an enemy._

Percy felt a pang of pity for the man, but laughed as he horse cantered away. He just couldn't believe his luck!

Sure enough, they came hours later in a small village. Somewhere during the journey, the demigod has fallen asleep. The moon appeared, and the sun rose again.

The horse didn't falter, only slowing into a trot when tired. When Percy voiced his concern, the horse just shook his mane.

_I am trained for this, my Lord._

"Would you please quit the 'my Lord' thing? Blackjack's 'boss' is enough for me, as well as dozens of other pe—, well, horses' 'my Lords.'"

Which had led him into thinking that he should name the faithful creature.

"Did your knight named you?" asked Percy at the black horse.

They had camped beside a stream after Percy persuaded the horse. The demigod had been showing his powers to his new friend. At first the horse seemed wary, but after Percy made horses galloping out of water mid-air, the horse trotted over for a better look and seemed more at ease.

The horse neighed as he shook his head. _No._

"Then I'll name you..." the demigod paused for a moment, thinking of a name that will suit this time. Right. Thinking wasn't his strong suit. "Abelard?"

_Thank you, _the newly named horse, Abelard, murmured, his muzzle nosing Percy's hand.

"The least I could do," said Percy easily, grinning.

Now, they came into a tavern, as Abelard promised.

A very noisy tavern.

And as the demigod and the horse watched, a man flew out of the door.

He left the horse untethered outside the tavern with a silent command of stay.

Percy stepped over and crossed the threshold...

...and ducked as a jar went sailing past where his head had been a second ago.

It was chaos.

It took him a while, but he realized that there was a side, there was another side, and then there was another side.

The first side seemed made of three men. The second side seemed made of... well, _bullies,_ for lack of better word. Then the last side seemed on the side of the first side, and consists of ordinary people. And the tavern keeper.

Then he saw him.

He was just a few years older than him, maybe two or three. He had sharp cheekbones, raven black hair, a long pale face, and he wears—was the a handkerchief on his neck? But the most unnatural part of him was his eyes.

At first glance, it was a mischievous blue set of eyes. But from time to time, when the demigod stared, it will glow molten gold—almost like Hazel's eyes.

Like Fryngidd.

And whenever it glowed gold, a jar or a plate will go sailing past, with unseen hands, and will directly hit a bully.

Their eyes met from across the room, and the young man's mysterious eyes widened, and he staggered a step back.

A glint caught the demigod's eyes, and one of the big bullies—the leader, Percy guessed—procured a knife and charged towards the blonde—one of the young man from the first side.

The young man with the mysterious glowing eyes moved to intercept—but a long-haired man tackled the leader—and winced as the knife caught his hip.

Blood spread through the fabric even as the man staggered back—and promptly hit his head on the table, effectively knocking him unconscious.

The young man with the mysterious glowing eyes—he really should name them now—hurried forward with the blonde guy.

"How is he?" asked the blonde.

Neckerchief guy—that name was shorter—was already tearing part of his cloth for wrapping it around the injured hip. "Not good," he muttered in reply. "He's losing a lot of blood."

Two of the bullies began to stir from the floor, but neither of the two noticed it. Their eyes met and focused on the threesome across the room, then to their leader, who was still out cold on the floor beside the three.

The two sat up, anger etched in their not-so-handsome features. (Or Percy thought so.)

The tavern fell silent, as many of the commoners had fled the scene long ago in the midst of the fight.

"Uh, guys?" Percy called out uncertainly.

The two gave him no heed, still bent over and fussing over the bloodied, unconscious figure on the floor.

The two thugs stood up, shining blades in hands . They were stalking quietly toward the trio, and none of the audience dared make a noise, for one of them was holding them with a glare, showing the knife.

Loyalty is his fatal flaw, Athena had said all those years ago. Heck, he couldn't even just stand and watch as the bullies ambush the trio from behind.

And he hated bullies.

Percy grabbed a fallen kitchen knife, testing its balance and grip. Not bad. He couldn't risk to use Riptide now, because it would only pass through them and the people will accuse him of magic, or something like that.

He stood between the bullies and the trio. The blonde guy and the raven-haired young man had finally glanced up to see what the mess was about.

Percy saw the neckerchief guy shifted, and the blonde guy crouched into a position.

The thugs laughed when they saw Percy stood between their victim. "Boy," one spat, "move aside and don't force me to make your life miserable."

The demigod smirked, shrugging easily. "Don't force me to make your life miserable," he repeated tauntingly. They were no match for a demigod. "Was not the most original line ever, and besides, I had enough miserable to last a lifetime." He pointed to the other one with the tip of his knife. "Maybe your friend would want his pretty eyebrows to be trimmed. It looked like it joined for eternity."

The other man sputtered in rage, while the first looked angry as his words were being thrown away dismissively.

Percy shifted the knife in his hands as they charged at him, screaming, rage and feral. The knives glinted in the sunlight, sharp and bloodless. Yet.

But they will stay that way.

Eyebrow Guy reached him first. The knife glinted—seriously, they were so _shiny—_as it slashed towards him, but Percy deflected it easily with his own blade. He then stepped forward, catching Eyebrow Guy completely unawares, reaching past him, and whirled around to kick the man at the back. He ducked just in time to avoid the blow of the other guy—and as he turned, he reared back and punched the guy square in the jaw with all his might. He staggered back, eyes rolling back in his head, and collapsed, out cold.

Eyebrow Guy was struggling to stand up, but Percy was having none of it. He knew better than to take chances, so he gripped the knife and slammed the hilt into the man's head, joining his companion on the floor.

He wasn't even breathing hard when he turned around to see twin gaping faces.

Percy ignored the stares and ripped off a piece of fabric from his own shirt. He wrapped it securely around the long-haired man's wound, a red blotch seeping through.

The demigod checked the tie around the wound. "It needs treatment," he murmured. "Fast."

"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," the blonde snapped sarcastically. "Now, are you done invading our privacy?"

"Arthur," the young man with the mysterious eyes admonished him. "Don't talk to him like that. Besides, he's only trying to help."

Arthur huffed. "I can talk to anyone however I want to. I'm the prince."

Percy narrowed his eyes at the blonde, who looked like a broader-shoulder Jason the wrong way up. "So you're Prince Arthur, then," he stated conversationally. Then he grinned at the young man. "Don't worry, a lot of people already called me that." He stuck a hand out. "I'm Percy."

The young man shook it, although he seemed a bit wary. Right. The flashing eyes. "Merlin." Then mischief sparked in his eyes. "And this is your Royal Prattishness, Prince Arthur."

The blonde—Arthur—frowned at him, though Percy thought that he wasn't actually angry. Like he treated him as an equal, despite what he just said earlier. "That is not the right way to introduce me, _Mer_lin." He straightened a bit, formal and stiff, and inclined his head. "Arthur Pendragon."

Percy realized then how he hated politics. From gods to the king ls and princes. They were all the same: surrounded by a commanding aura, used to people cowering and obeying every order given.

But it seemed like Merlin was an exception. The young man was frowning, decidedly unimpressed. "Yes, yes, let's skip the pleasantries and help bleeding Gwaine, shall we?"

Arthur turned his attention to Merlin. "I'm the one who hands out orders. You're my manservant."

"But it seemed that you are more interested in introducing your high and mighty self than helping Gwaine," Merlin pointed out, cocking an eyebrow.

Arthur threw up his hands. "Fine!" The prince started to lift the unconscious Gwaine. "Help me out here."

With the three of them, they lifted Gwaine out of the tavern and tied him securely, but not so comfortably, on a horse.

The leader of the thugs—the one who stabbed Gwaine—was being thrown with rotten food by the peasants.

"If this man ever troubles you again, a word will be sent to Camelot. Soldiers will be here within a day," said Arthur.

"How can you make a promise like that?" the tavern owner asked, confused and suspicious.

"Because I'm the King's son, Prince Arthur."

Mary's eyes widened in disbelief, and she turned to the peasants. "Prince Arthur! Prince Arthur in my tavern!" She narrowed her eyes at the man's direction, and said, "Come on!" With renewed determination, they pelted him with rotten food.

"You three heading for Camelot?" Percy asked as Merlin and Arthur prepared to go.

"Yep," said Merlin, ignoring the look Arthur sent his way. "You coming?"

In response, Percy whistled. Abelard came trotting close a second later.

Arthur's eyes widened in disbelief, as well as Merlin's. "You could do that?" the prince asked in amazement. "And no saddle?"

"Yes, _Mr. Obvious._"

Laughing, the demigod propped himself on his horse and kicked his side. "Go, Abelard!" He grinned at their shocked faces. "Slowpokes!"

He rode, with the cries of Arthur's "Hey!" and Merlin's "Gwaine's with us!" following him into the forest.

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Few minutes later, he slowed down considerably enough to match pace of the other three.

"So," started Arthur in a voice that was too casual, "care to tell me what do you want with Camelot?"

"Not to start a war, I'm not gonna tell you that seeing that her prince can kill me right now," he said in a light tone, grinning. Merlin snorted in amusement. "Just a woman. Told me to pass a message, he said, shrugging, the half-lie feeling wrong on his lips. "No harm done, right?"

The prince narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "We wouldn't know, would we? Maybe you _are_ a spy. Maybe you've got a trick up on your sleeve."

"He just saved your royal backside earlier," Merlin reminded him.

It only raised the prince's suspicions. "And you seemed to be a trained warrior to be a simple messenger."

Trained warrior. Percy shook his head at the words, though they were the every bit of truth. "Nah," he said offhandedly. "Learned it for a bit of self-defense."

They camped at a nearby stream later, the demigod redressing Gwaine's wound and Merlin was ordered to find some firewood.

When the green-eyed teen was finished, he sat at the opposite side of the prince. When the silence became too much to bear with the prince glancing at him every few seconds, awkwardness was thick in the air, the demigod finally mumbled, "I'm gonna help Merlin."

Arthur nodded jerkily to the direction where his manservant went.

Percy found Merlin just a few paces after. He was collecting firewood in his arms, staggering under the enormous pile.

"Merlin?" Percy called out.

"You knew," he said quietly, stopping. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," the demigod sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I saw you." Percy hesitated at his next question. "Was it a big deal?"

"You aren't from around here, are you? It was the big deal," corrected Merlin. "I had to hide it from everyone. Gaius and Lancelot are the only ones who knows. My mother too," he added.

He swallowed. "It would be hard, keeping a secret like that. Especially if you are the prince's servant. All kinds of trouble..." The demigod smiled at the warlock. "Don't worry, though. I promise I won't tell."

Merlin smiled back at him. "Thanks." When he saw Percy's frown, he said worriedly, "What is it?"

The demigod glanced at him, picking up the fallen firewood (Merlin wasn't sure how they've fallen from his arms. When he hefted the weight of the pile, sure enough, they were considerably lighter.) "Can you help me with my secret, then? I'm a lousy liar, as my friends would say."

The young warlock eyed him curiously. "As long as it wasn't something bad," he promised, grinning cheekily.

"Oh, it was very bad." At Merlin's questioning eyebrow, he started hesitantly, "I'm from another world." When Merlin's other eyebrow shot up, he hastily corrected himself. "More like, from the future."

It only caused Merlin's expression to be disbelieving.

Percy sighed. "You won't call me crazy and sell me to Arthur, right?"

"Okay, okay, just get on with it. You're killing me with curiosity."

The demigod laughed. "Right. Thing is, this... _lady_ called. Like, inside my head. She said something like, 'Emrys needs you.' And also about... Arthur and..." He glanced uneasily at the stiff servant beside him. "Albion?"

The young warlock stepped back in shock, dropping the few pieces of firewood in his hands, but Percy continued.

"She said she created a prophecy." The demigod laughed, dark and mirthlessly. "Of course it was a prophecy. Anyway, she said something about a land united again. Of her Once and Future King, and the great warlock ruling at his side.

"'The battle is won, but the king is lost,'" he repeated the words, suppressing a shudder. "She said he will die without me."

The demigod looked up to the shocked and relieved eyes of the warlock. Like some weight had been lifted of his shoulders, and Percy knew what a wonderful feeling it is.

"I'm a demigod," he continued. "The offspring of a god and a human. I got my dad's powers over water. And," he smiled, "I'm a master swordsman."

"I'm Emrys."

At Merlin's abrupt confession, Percy felt his eyes widen.

"The dragon told me that it was my... _destiny_ to protect Arthur. Two sides of the same coin. I saved Arthur's life than you can count, but Arthur never suspected. The first time I saved his life, I ended up being his manservant.

"At first, I hated him for being a prat of a prince he was. But," he slowly smiled, "he's growing up to be a better man. And I've been there ever since, saving his royal ass, his father, my friends and the whole Camelot while at it."

"And it's been...?"

"Three years."

"It must be a lot for you," said Percy, recalling all those times that, _oh_, Olympus needs saving, the world needs saving, and, _sorry_, you lost your friend, better luck next time. It was a burden on your shoulders, but you've got to keep going, 'cause you've got to save lives, because you're the only one who is capable to.

But it's not that at all. Because you're the only one who is destined to.

"It is," Merlin said, agreeing. His shoulders hunched on that burden again, and his eyes seemed much older. "I felt like I couldn't escape. That I could never be free."

"Prophecies suck," said Percy lightly, hoping to lighten the somber mood that had descended over them.

The young warlock laughed. "Exactly."

"_Mer_lin!"

Merlin scrambled for the fallen firewood, and Percy helped him. It took them no time at all to gather them and to go back to their makeshift camp.

Arthur was there, standing with his arms crossed. "What kept you?" he asked when the two stumbled into view.

They looked at each other, and chorused, "Nothing!"

The prince threw up his hands. "Fine! Have it your way." He paused, contemplating for a moment. "We ride for Camelot now."

"B-but," stuttered Merlin, "what about the firewood?" He held up his arms.

"Leave it," the prince said dismissively.

"It was for _nothing_?"

"It wasn't for nothing," Arthur noted, eyeing the two. "Something happened. Tell me, what is it?"

"Merlin was sharing how a prat of a prince you are," offered Percy, thinking quickly. "And how he saved you the first day before he was made a servant to you."

He just guessed about the first day, and by glancing at Merlin, he guessed right. He was awesome like that.

Arthur huffed. "As if I need saving!"

The servant raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you did. The chandelier dropped, you thought the witch was dead, when she obviously _wasn't_ and threw a knife at you."

"I perfectly had it coming!" protested Arthur loudly.

"Had not! You would be dead by now if it weren't for _me_."

"My life had been perfectly fine until you came _staggering_ into it!"

Percy whistled loudly, effectively cutting off the rest of the argument and causing the two to clap their hands to their ears. Abelard came trotting to them.

"You two bicker like an old couple," Percy said, tying the still unconscious Gwaine to the man's horse. Once securely tied, he got to Abelard and sent a silent command for Gwaine's horse to ride for Camelot. "Now, if you excuse me, I had to tend to your savior, _Your Majesty_."

"Idiot! How could you leave us again?" hissed Arthur when they had caught up with the demigod.

"I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid." Percy pointed at Gwaine's hip wound. "That obviously needs treatment, because it may get infected. And you two are wasting your time bickering."

"Sorry." At least Merlin had the decency to apologize.

Arthur huffed but remained silent.

Stubborn, yep.

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**And... CUT! Thank you! *bows to the cheers* So sorry that it took this chapter so long to type. It was hard to type on the phone, and I got stuck to Supernatural for a moment. But never fear! I won't abandon this fic for you guys! And there's this other fics I've been... working... on... *furious typing* Hanggang sa muli! Stay tuned for the next chapter!**

_**This chapter is dedicated for the reviewers, followers and... favoriters?**_

_**~BloodDarkerThanCrimson out.**_


	3. Chapter 3: Pale Kings and Princes

**Hi my dear readers! I'm so sorry it took me this long, 'cause I just got involved in a bloody war between fanfiction, Supernatural, life goals and grades. *glares at notes from school* *and glares at Supernatural for making my life miserable* And please, no spoilers, 'cause I am currently lamenting for the fact that Guinevere is under Morgana's spell. I'm not through Season 5. Oh, poor Arthur... *sobs* But that's why we have fanfictions, right? *grins almost manically* I'm sorry again 'cause this is so late.**

**fabul0u5: Belated Happy Birthday! Really really sorry that I couldn't make it in time...**

**Thanks to: Dani McLean, darknight014, fabul0u5, Guest, Guest, Cats are my World, Guest, SeaLion37, Guest, Guest, Guest, Guest, and Midna18.**

**UPDATE: OH GOD, I FORGOT SOMETHING. SORRY TO CAUSE SO MUCH CONFUSION AFTER THE 'HIDEY-HOLE PART. I JUST TOOK NOTICE WHEN IT WAS MENTIONED TWICE IN THE REVIEWS. THANKS TO: **Dani McLean** AND **limegreenarcher**. So sorry again, he mistake must have been donewhen I tried to post notes to the Docs app on my phone, and didn't proofread it. 'Cause I just type on my notes to go and copy &amp; paste it to Docs. Oh, gods, I am so so sorry to the 100+ who read it. T.T**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Merlin nor Percy Jackson.**

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"**I once knew a man who was heir to the throne of a great kingdom, he lived as a ranger and fought his destiny to sit on a throne but in his blood he was a king. I also knew a man who was the king of a small kingdom, it was very small and his throne very humble but he and his people were all brave and worthy conquerors. And I knew a man who sat on a magnificent throne of a big and majestic kingdom, but he was not a king at all, he was only a cowardly steward. If you are the king of a great kingdom, you will always be the only king though you live in the bushes. If you are the king of a small kingdom, you can lead your people in worth and honor and together conquer anything. And if you are not a king, though you sit on the king's throne and drape yourself in many fine robes of silk and velvet, you are still not the king and you will never be one."****  
**_**―**__**C. JoyBell C.**_

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**Chapter 3: Pale Kings and Princes**

* * *

The fields around them was quiet for a while, the silence broken by the soft clattering of hooves on soil. The grass swayed drunkenly along the wind, and the sun was warm enough to be bearable. Clouds drifted and blocked the sun from time to time.

Then the peaceful silence was shattered as someone - something - growled. The two were sitting upright at an instant, the prince's hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the warlock's fingers twitching, eyes flitting around for any sign of danger.

"That was just me," mumbled Percy, going red in the face.

"What..." asked Arthur, trailing off, confused.

Merlin, off to one side, relaxed and tried to smother his snickers.

"I said that's just me," muttered the demigod loudly enough for the prince to hear, going redder by the minute. "I haven't eaten anything for almost two days. That's why I came into the tavern, but you three wrecked it before I could even step into it," he said accusingly.

Merlin was now laughing openly, and Arthur's face dawned in realization.

In retaliation, Percy silently commanded Merlin's mare to halt. The horse instantly obeyed, standing still to where she was commanded. Merlin kicked the mare's side gently, but she wouldn't budge.

The warlock glared at the laughing demigod, Arthur's face clouding with confusion. Poor Arthur.

"Come on, Merlin," mocked Percy, grinning. "Surely you can control that horse?"

The young warlock kicked the horse a little too hard on the sides, and the mare reared on her hind legs, causing Merlin to fall off to the ground.

Arthur's laughter joined with Percy's chuckles, mingling in the crisp air. The son of Poseidon unhurriedly commanded Merlin's horse to obey her master's wishes.

Merlin picked himself off the ground, glaring at Percy. "Glad you found my predicament amusing," he grumbled, straddling his horse, and looked relieved when the horse started to trot with a gentle kick.

The air, which was slightly hostile because of Percy's presence just a minute ago, turned something akin to friendliness.

As they entered Camelot, Percy was surprised when Arthur didn't leave for some princely duties. He even offered to carry the long-haired man to the physician's chambers, but Percy shook his head and lugged Gwaine by himself.

Percy should have accepted the offer. The injured man was almost twice his weight.

Arthur led the way to the physician's chambers, Percy carrying Gwaine bridal style and Merlin following close behind. The prince didn't bother to knock; he opened the door unhesitantly and gestured for Percy to lay the man to the spare bed.

The physician's eyebrow jumped at the sudden intrusion, eyes flitting across the four, but quickly set off to remove the bandages and examine the wound, Merlin, Arthur and Percy hovering at his side.

"Merlin, get me some fresh water, towels, needle and silk thread," Gaius ordered.

"And honey?" added Merlin helpfully.

Gaius smiled. "You're learning." At Arthur's inquiring look, he said, "It helps fight the infection."

Percy studied the old physician in front of him. It seemed like Gaius was a knowledgeable one, and would probably know what the mysterious lady meant, but he couldn't talk about it until the prince walks out of the room.

"But he'll be alright?" asked Arthur.

"Provided he's strong."

Arthur and Percy shared a look. "He's that alright. The man saved my life, Gaius."

Gaius looked up at the prince, shock evident in his face. It must be a shock, the demigod thought, that even the most powerful warlock couldn't save a prince's life on his own alone.

"He's to be given anything he needs." Turning to Percy, he sincerely said, "Thank you."

Without further note, Arthur left the room with a nod at the demigod and physician.

Merlin came back, carrying a sweet-smelling jar, a question in his face. "Arthur's gone?"

Gaius nodded, taking the jar from him. "Seems to be." Shooting a look at Percy, he said, "Though I would like to know what happened here."

"Tavern fight," said Merlin casually, leaning in further to examine the wound.

From what Percy had seen earlier, the dagger was buried hilt-deep into Gwaine's hip. Even then, the three had taken care covering it with new, fresh cloths for bandages.

The old physician shook his head. "Only you two could get into such trouble," he muttered. Merlin quirked a half-smile.

Merlin and Gaius had covered the wound with proper bandages, Percy sitting on the lone chair inside the room, tapping his foot rhythmically on the wood floor.

He looked around and took in the state of the room: the bed a while ago was a mess, the sheets thrown hastily around; there was a lone cupboard that had seen better days. He realized, looking around, that this might be Merlin's room.

Percy stopped tapping his foot. The sound it made was hollow, and when he peered at the wooden floor, there was a barely noticeable dent in it.

"Nice hidey-hole you got there, dude," said Percy appreciatively, tapping the floor with his foot.

Merlin made a face, while Gaius raised an eyebrow at the warlock. "Don't shout it to the world. And what's a 'dude' anyway?"

"Merlin," warned Gaius.

The warlock grinned, giving a sideways glance at Percy. "He knows."

Gaius raised an eyebrow, making Merlin sigh. "He's a demigod." At the physician's confused look, he amended, "A half-god, half-human."

Percy put in, "And I'm supposed to help take part in Arthur's destiny. It was said by…" His brow wrinkled as he tried to remember the mysterious lady's name. "Fryngidd, I think?"

The physician paled, staggering a step back. "The Destiny Weaver herself," he whispered reverently.

Merlin had moved closer to Gaius, wary and confused. "The who?"

Gaius scrubbed a hand to his wrinkled face. "I thought they were only rumors," he began. "But as a magic user, there was the occasional whisper that there was Fryngidd, the Destiny Weaver, had predicted of Emrys and the Once and Future King."

"And then she said that she had to... change something," said Percy. "She intercepted, more like. And then she threw me in."

Merlin's face clouded with displeasure. "So she's the one who started it all."

Percy shot the young warlock a look. "What?"

"The prophecies. She's the one who made those damned destiny and prophecies.

Percy shrugged. "At least you've got a headstart." Merlin looked bewildered. "Hey, prophecies are helpful, and on first glance, they could be grim, but hey," he said, shrugging, "things may not as well as they could be."

He could be blind sometimes, but let it never be said that Percy couldn't be wise at certain times.

Besides, he got five years of acquaintance with crazy prophecies that's enough for a lifetime (*cough* _Hera *_cough*) and it seemed that he was thrown into another one.

"You'll never know unless it's real happening," the demigod said confidently, "so the best we could do at the present is to prepare. Right? And now you've got little me." Percy shot a reassuring grin at them, to which Merlin returned blindingly, looking like the world have been lifted off his shoulders.

"Thanks, Percy."

Gaius smiled at the two, and turned strict. "I'll need someone to redress the man's wound every hour. There's a woman in need of birthing to a child that I'll attend to."

"I'll do it," volunteered Percy. "You go attend to Arthur," he told the servant.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Honestly, helping Gwaine seemed a better option than that prat," he muttered. "He's insufferable." Then his eyes lit up. "Wait, you said you're hungry, right?" Percy nodded. "I'll see what I can sneak from the kitchens."

Percy smiled gratefully. "Sure."

* * *

The servant came back half an hour later looking haggard, but at the same time, looking happier like Percy had seen him banter with Arthur.

When Merlin set the tray in front of him, his stomach growled, and he snatched the bread instantly and started to chew.

Merlin stared at him. Percy shrugged, and would've smiled if his cheeks weren't full of food. "You _really_ are hungry."

Percy, rather getting unnerved by those really blue eyes, said between bites, "So tell me how you met Arthur."

The young warlock grinned.

* * *

Just an hour later, long after Percy had eaten all of food on his pitiful plate and missed hamburgers so much, when Merlin was finished with his tale of destiny and witches and talking dragons, Arthur called him ("Get here, you lazy servant! You've still got to polish my armor!") and Percy was left alone with an unconscious Gwaine.

With nothing better to do, he changed the man's bandages and sat back on his seat. And waited. And waited some more.

The demigod didn't remember falling asleep, but suddenly he was dreaming.

He wondered if he will get a crick in the neck for falling asleep uncomfortably on the chair beside the bed.

He was dreaming of the three thugs, one he recognized and the leader that they met at the tavern.

He didn't recognized the third man.

Percy's nose wrinkled. Still with the demigod dreams, but how could possibly these three unpleasantries were threats?

He watched, unable to move, as they approached an old man with a hunching back that he was almost bent forward.

The old man kneeled in front of a man and offered a sword wrapped in a dark fabric. "Stalorne blades, just as you requested."

The bald man held one and tested its weight, Percy almost leaning in further to look. It glittered in the moonlight, beautiful but round-edged. "They're blunt," one of the accomplices said accusingly.

"This is only how they appear," the bald man said, pointing the sword point to his accomplice's tunic, and with a light swipe downward, slashed a thin line of the fabric open. They laughed together, the old man looking between the two.

The second accomplice only smirked from the shadows.

"Why would you want such weapon?" the old man asked apprehensively.

The bald man turned towards the kneeling dealer, the blade coming dangerously close to his neck. "That's none of your business, old man," he said lowly. The dealer shook his head vigorously. He took the fabric from the dealer's hands.

"You have the crystals?" acquired the bald man.

"Money first," the dealer said. Huh, the demigod thought amusedly, he had guts to tell him that, considering that the one he's talking to was holding blade.

The bald man procured a pouch presumably with the money. He dropped it to the greedy hands of the old man. The dealer stood up and went to his desk, the three exchanging glances. He turned back with a tiny chest held reverently held close to him, opening the lid. The bald man made a move to take the crystals that lie within, but the dealer drew the chest back.

"Not yet," he said, smiling excitedly. And creepily, Percy thought. He held a hand above the three crystals, moving it in a circular motion. "_Pecce treowan andwittan heora fram gesihoe eallra_," he whispered, the foreign language falling from his lips stiltedly. The crystals glowed briefly, the color red-orange of the fire.

The old dealer smiled up at the bald man, who smiled back, too innocently. With careful movements, he closed the lid of the chest and offered it to him, his accomplices watching with narrowed eyes.

"The wearer of the crystals will be able to take on the form of whoever's blood they touch," the dealer explained, and the bald man's smile turned to a grin.

"Thank you," the bald man said.

"Thank _you_," the old man said gratefully to the three of them, patting the pouch satisfactorily, which clinked.

When the old man turned his back to them, pouring the coins greedily to his hand, Percy's senses tingled. The bald man thrusted the sword deep into the dealer's back. The old man was dead even before the body hit his ground.

"Now what?" asked his accomplice.

"Now, Ebor," the bald man said, turning on him and nodding at the third of the party, who nodded back, "we can take our revenge on Prince Arthur of Camelot and that green-eyed brat."

* * *

Percy woke with a strangled noise just as Gwaine woke up, sitting at the bed.

The door creaked open and two heads turned at the sound. Merlin came in grinning, balancing a tray in one hand.

"What am I doing in this bed?" asked Gwaine suspiciously, looking around, just as Percy groaned, "Have I slept that long?"

Gwaine looking suspicious sleeping comfortably in a bed may had come from him not sleeping in a bed at all.

"You were wounded," said Merlin as an answer to Gwaine's question. "And yes, you looked comfortable in the chair with drool coming out of your mouth."

"_What_?" protested Percy. "You could've told me! Now my back aches all over!"

"Mind introducing me to your friend?" Gwaine drawled, looking amusedly between the two.

"Gwaine, this is Percy, the one who saved us when we were caught unawares."

Percy stretched, arms reaching high on the air, bones audibly cracking.

"And Percy, this is Gwaine, who I'm sure you saw saved Arthur's life."

The demigod turned around with a lopsided grin and offered a hand. "Percy. You must have a suicide wish to charge a man with a knife. I'm impressed." Turning to Merlin, he stage-whispered, "He's my new idol."

Gwaine clasped his hand in both of his firmly and shook it, mirroring his lopsided grin. "I already like you."

"Arthur wanted to make sure you were treated by his physician," the young warlock said.

The long-haired knight stared at him uncertainly. "Arthur?"

Merlin dipped his head, looking a tad confused. "Prince... Arthur. You saved his life."

Gwaine gave an ironic smile and turned around to fix the pillows for him to properly sit up. "If I'd known who he was... I probably wouldn't have."

At Percy and Merlin's questioning stares, he explained, "He's a noble."

Merlin set the tray on the table, from which Percy nicked a piece bread. "Yeah, but he's a good man."

The long-haired man laughed. "If you say so," Gwaine said, unbelieving, while Percy snorted.

"Well, you two are heroes," said Merlin, Gwaine examining the tray's contents. "The King wants to thank you... in person."

The long-haired man choked on the water he'd been drinking, while Percy continued chewing his bread slowly, inwardly impressed.

It wasn't as if he was a hero. Hell, he _was_ the Hero of Olympus. It was just... he wasn't used to being thanked at. Not from the gods, certainly not. Even Zeus, after the Titan War, seemed forced to acknowledge that a bunch of demigods saved the world.

But now, the _King_ of Camelot wanted to thank him. King. _Of Camelot._

He wouldn't tell yet that he recognized their names. King Arthur of Camelot and his loyal wizard at his side, ruling Albion.

Then there were the Knights of the Round Table, and the demigod was sure that 'Sir Percy' wasn't one of them._  
_

The rest of the details were blurry. He didn't pay much attention to his History class.

Unbidden, a thought came to his mind. "_Be a Knight of Camelot. Gain Prince Arthur's trust._"

"Please, no," Gwaine was saying. "I've met a few kings. Once you met one, you've met them all."

Merlin inclined his head, confused. "He'll probably give you a reward."

"I'm not interested," Gwaine said, chewing bread. "Besides, I've got everything in here." He patted his bag, which was hanging from the wall.

Percy's head was reeling. He couldn't be a Knight without noble blood, but...

"Why did you help us?" asked Merlin curiously.

"Your chances looked between slim and none," said Gwaine, raising his arms to put his hands behind his head. He grinned. "I ah, guess I kinda looked the kind of those odds."

"I'd like to meet him."

Both heads snapped at the eagerness of Percy's voice. In fact, now that he heard himself, he sounded a little too eager.

The demigod beamed at them.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" whispered Percy to Merlin, glancing at the two knights flanking them as they rounded yet another corner of the castle. Arthur, who was walking up ahead, didn't hear him.

"Well, you did just save his life," said Merlin amiably, not bothering to lower his voice. The prince, who heard, raised turned around with eyebrow raised. The servant grinned while Percy just smiled impishly.

They stopped in front of a pair of large wooden doors, which Percy assumed lead to the throne room. The doors loomed above him like an omen, closed shut like they were keeping their own secrets to themselves.

Percy mentally berated himself. They were just _doors_.

With the king inside, who _should_ accept his one-time offer.

Facing gods who knew about him and his inherited powers were one thing. Facing _kings_ who had the absolute power to raise his state or to _execute_ him because of those powers were another.

Arthur swept open the doors without knocking, without hesitating, looking regal and confident.

The throne room was huge and certainly grand, but it couldn't undoubtedly match Olympus.

The king, who was discussing something with two richly-dressed men over papers, immediately looked up to see Arthur, Merlin, Percy and the knights. The prince executed a slight bow, while Merlin ducked his head respectfully. Percy bowed his head in respect, for once not hesitating.

His hands were working nervously, over-thinking would his plan work or not.

"Father," Arthur said. "This is the boy who saved my life."

Indignation seeped from Percy. _Boy? _asked the demigod silently with an inquiring eyebrow to Merlin, who smiled apologetically.

"And the other?" asked the king.

"He refused," said the prince, confusion coloring his tone slightly. "Said that he... was content enough."

The hesitant tone caught Percy's attention. There was few who would refuse the king, he mused. Most would be grateful to be met and be heard by the king, much more when awarded to.

It was a rare thing, indeed, that men with great power would humble themselves down to acknowledge ordinary persons. _Now take that, Zeus,_ he thought viciously.

"You are dismissed," the king, whom the demigod had yet to learn the name, ordered the two men who was standing uncertainly by his side. They bowed, low mutterings of "_Yes, sire_," reaching his ears, and left quickly, leaving the three to the king's mercy.

The knights were pretty much useless, anyway.

The king's gaze shifted on him, and he jutted his chin out and stood straighter.

His earlier nervousness was seemingly forgotten. He didn't bow down to gods, and he certainly wouldn't bow down to kings.

"My Lord," Percy said, with the practiced reverent tone he usually used when meeting gods except a select few.

When he met the king's gaze, he saw that the king had dipped his head. There was a curious look in his eye─something amused and a little inquisitive, as to why a seventeen-year-old had saved the prince's life and wouldn't wilt under the king's intense stare.

If you would look at the gods whom you will stare long enough with disrespect, they will probably incinerate you to ashes.

He was probably underestimating him. It if there was one thing he learned, it was never to underestimate someone or something. You wouldn't know what hit you until you're on the ground, bleeding to death.

And _that's_ speaking from experience.

"You must be rewarded," the king said at last. "What do you propose, boy?"

Percy hesitated, knowing that this was a crucial moment. One wrong step and he will not get another chance. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"I... only wish for a position in Camelot," said Percy. The king narrowed his eyes, and the demigod could hear the sharp intake of Arthur's breath and could feel Merlin's anticipation. "A one-time offer. Trainer with a sword."

The plan was thrown into the air. He wondered if he should tell the king that there were some people who would want to murder the prince, but figured it would be a problem for another time.

The king titled his head, definitely curious. The prince leaned forward, taking the reins.

"Just how _good_ are you with a sword?" asked Arthur.

The king thought about it for a moment. "There will be a swordfight between you and my son. Arthur will report to me what will happen." The prince nodded, eyes narrowed and calculating. "Since your manservant is useless with a sword─" the demigod could feel Merlin's indignation and thought, _maybe useless with a sword, but he got powerful magic_,"─and if you bested Arthur in the fight, you will be his personal trainer."

Percy smirked, green eyes dancing. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

**Was it short? And for the hundredth time, I'm so sorry for delaying this chapter! Now I feel like I disappointed you all. T.T Really. And your summer is ending soon, right? So maybe this was a good luck gift to y'all.**

**I'm feeling pretty fucking useless. Could you tell me that I'm not useless?**

**Review.**

**Peace out.**

_**~BloodDarkerThanCrimson **_**out**_**.**_


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